Justia's Sword
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: Happy didn't trust the strange woman exactly, but he did know Captain Rhodes from his stint in the Air Force.
1. Knowledge

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

**Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal sensitivities before and during reading.

**Author's Note(s):** This is how Happy joined the Stark family. Amazing how some things tend to echo throughout time, like the type of people who end up being the one keeping the Stark out of trouble.

**Challenge/Competition Block**:  
**Stacked with:** MC4A (FPC; BAON; ToS; Star; Fence; Shower; Spring Bingo)  
**Individual Challenges:** Team Logic; Hitter MC; Ethnic & Present; Short Jog (Y); Booger Breath  
**Space Address (Prompt):** 1C (Union/Covenant)  
**Representation:** Defense Squad; Jenny Rhodes  
**Bonus Challenge(s):** Middle Name; Nightingale; Unwanted Advice; Tomorrow's Shade; Second Verse (Found Family; Nontraditional; Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress); Chorus (Peddling Pots)  
**Tertiary Bonus Challenges:** n/a  
**Word Count**: 1450

-= LP =-  
**The Purpose of Aeries**  
_Justia's Sword  
_Part 01: Knowledge  
-= LP =-  
"When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty."  
– Thomas Jefferson  
-= LP =-

Goldie's Gym was not the kind of place that anyone would ever expect a woman like that to walk into willingly. She wore slacks that were just off of black, likely some fancy shade like _charcoal_ or _soot_, and a blouse that was that bright shade of reddish orange that matched the koi that the little dojo up the street kept. Despite the fact that she had to already be pushing six foot, she wore heels that looked dangerously high and piled her braided hair on the top of her head like a crown. That was fitting, since she strutted into the gym like a queen, effortlessly taking control of the room without speaking even a word.

Happy eyed her, even as he corrected the form of the kid he was coaching. Hell's Kitchen had its fair share of oddballs. He had lived there his entire life, excepting the few years he spent bouncing around doing maintenance for the Air Force. He knew how someone moved when they knew they held power and how they moved when they were just pretending. It was rare for him to not be able to recognize those things in someone, and it set him on edge more than just a little.

Though she did look vaguely familiar, like he had met her in passing, maybe.

"I'm looking for Sgt. Harold Hogan," the woman announced to Grace, the gal who ran the check-in desk. Happy felt something still inside of him. He hadn't heard himself addressed like that since the court martial that ended his career. Grace began the standard disassembling for anyone looking for a gym regular. The woman let Grace rattle on for a few moments before finding a natural pause to continue speaking. "I do not have any ill intentions towards Mr. Hogan. In fact, I have a job opportunity for him."

"The answer's no," Happy called over to her. The kid stopped punching the bag. He gestured for the kid to continue before heading over to take the woman off Grace's hands. "I don't know what you've heard, but if you're looking for me because of my service record, then you're wasting both our time because the answer is _no_."

The woman looked amused.

"You haven't even heard the offer, Mr. Hogan," she said, as commanding as any officer. "I think you will find it very interesting and right up your alley."

"The answer's still _no_, lady."

She grinned at him, reminding him of the cat out back that liked to drop rats and lizards off on the gym's stoop. Her hands folded in front of her stomach as her eyes assessed him. There was something about that measuring gaze that made Happy straighten his back like he would before an officer or his mother. Tension hummed around the room as everyone else stopped pretending to not watch.

"I am here because of your service record, Mr. Hogan," she said finally. He took a deep breath, ready to deny her once again. She held up one finely-boned hand, silencing him effortless. "Not because you were dishonorably discharged, and I think that makes you more willing to perform jobs of questionable legality. What interests me is the reason behind the dishonorable discharge. Aiding fugitives in escaping military captivity is a very serious charge."

"Just having an active X-gene isn't a crime," Happy argued, already tired of this same old argument, "and locking people up for it was wrong."

"You say that so simply, Mr. Hogan," she countered without inflection. "What if the young man had gone onto hurt someone? After all, he was untrained with a very potent ability with potential military applications. You could have just been handing over a weapon to the enemy."

"He was a _person_, not a weapon," Happy growled, "and he deserved to live his life as he wanted, not how the military wanted. If I had to do it over a thousand times, I still would have helped."

"And _that_ is why I'm certain that you're ideal for the job."

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, you're finally willing to listen to the offer?" she asked as if surprised. Her smile belied the sarcastic bite of the words. "I am looking for someone in possession of a specific set of skills. It may surprise you, but I have a dumbass that needs someone to watch his six, whether he likes it or not. It took a while to wear him down to the point of accepting this, but I've had my eye on you for a few years now, Mr. Hogan. You've come highly recommended."

"Who the hell would recommend a dishonorably discharged sergeant?"

"I believe you knew him as Captain James Rhodes."

Happy groaned before scrubbing a hand over his face. At least he knew now where the woman was getting the details of the event. The whole incident had been classified to the point that Happy couldn't appeal the discharge status. Grace murmured an excuse before ducking discretely away.

"Look, I don't know what you think you know, but—"

"He's my brother," she interrupted. Her gaze never left his face. "Jamie's a bit of an idiot, but he's my idiot. Now, I need help to keep him from doing something that he will regret."

"You want me to watch the six of a black ops specialist?"

"Oh, no," the woman corrected hastily. "I need you to watch over Jamie's stray so that we can convince him to not give up his commission." She made a few gestures that Happy recognized as sign language, even if it was beyond the few words and phrases that he knew. "Something happened recently, and Jamie is blaming himself for not being around more. Arranging for a bodyguard that Jamie would be able to trust is the compromise I've managed to negotiate between the two idiots. Honestly, this situation was inevitable, even if they refused to admit it."

"Hold on," Happy said, waving his hands like he was warding off smoke. "It sounds like you want me to be the bodyguard to Captain Rhodes' BE." She nodded. "Look, I don't think you fully realize this, but your brother? He's not just any specialist. He's the guy they call in to finish things. He's a _legend_, right up there with any of the Howling Commandos or Tuskegee Airmen."

"I actually do know that."

"Do you also know how rare it is for _anyone_ to actually file for a BE prior to any incident? I don't know the exact numbers for the other branches, but that's pretty damn rare in the Force. Most of those cases go into the Army like their precious Rogers. Now you've got to know that BEs are classified, right?"

"Yes, for protection."

"Yeah, but you've gotta know that everyone who's ever served anywhere near Rhodes knows the identity of his BE."

"Yes," she agreed, "he's not exactly good at being _subtle_."

"So, you're really standing there, suggesting that you want _me_ to protect _Anthony Edward Stark_, the Bucky Exception of the guy they call in when they can't resolve the issue any other way."

"It's not a suggestion, Mr. Hogan. You are the candidate at the top of a very short list. You made quite the impression on Jamie."

"All because I didn't rat him out for looking the other way when he caught me busting that mutant out?"

"I did mention that Jamie was an idiot, right?"

"You're crazy."

"Brothers do that to you." She smiled at him. "So when should I expect you to come in to do the paperwork?"

"I don't even know your name, lady, let alone if you even really have the right to make this offer."

"I'm Dr. Jennette Rhodes," she announced confidently, "and I assure you that the job is real."

"You're still crazy."

"Day after tomorrow good for you?"

"No," Happy corrected, already feeling like he was in over his head, "tomorrow might be better. After all, it sounds like the world may be at stake."

"The world is always at stake, Mr. Hogan," Dr. Rhodes agreed, "but some things are even larger than that. Tony Stark may very well be the future. You know, if we can keep him from accidentally blowing himself up."

"Are explosions that much of a problem?"

"There's hazard pay and full healthcare coverage included."

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"Have I mentioned that my brothers are idiots?"

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Just remember: you can walk away," she said. "I'm stuck with them."

"You're wrong." Happy scrubbed a hand over his face again. "It's already too late to walk away. If this is what the Captain needs, then he has my support."

-= LP =-  
To Be Continued  
-= LP =-


	2. Truth

**Author's Note(s):** So the point of this was actually getting Happy in the same room as Tony, yet somehow, I've managed to have them _not interact_ again. Oh, well. And don't blink or you'll miss JARVIS' birth.

**Challenge/Competition Block**:  
**Stacked with:** MC4A (FPC; BAON; ToS; StL; SIN; Star; Fence; AV; Summer Bingo); Tony Stark Bingo  
**Individual Challenges:** Team Logic; Marvelous Cinema; Hitter MC; Medic MC; Hacker MC; Ethnic & Present; Short Jog (Y); Booger Breath; Misunderstood (Y); Seeds; Old Shoes; Themes & Things A [Truth] (Y); Themes & Things B [Protection] (Y); Laws; Neurodivergent; Quiet Time; Letter of the Day; The Real MC; Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Real Family; Flags & Ribbons; Interesting Times (Y)  
**Space Address (Prompt):** Summer Bingo [3D] (Bundle); Tony Stark Bingo [T2] (Tony Stark's Poor Life Choices)  
**Representation:** Defense Squad; Jenny Rhodes  
**Bonus Challenge(s): **For the Vine; Larger than Life; Unicorn Second Verse (Middle Name; Mother Hen; Nightingale; Unwanted Advice; Found Family; Nontraditional; Zucchini Bread; Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress); Chorus (Endless Wonder; Wabi Sabi; Bee Haven; Machismo; Peddling Pots; Mouth of Babes; Tomorrow's Shade)  
**Tertiary Bonus Challenges:** T3 (Tether); SN (Rail; Ameliorate); FR (Liberation); O3 (Olivine)  
**Word Count**: 1342

-= LP =-  
**The Purpose of Aeries**  
_Justia's Sword  
_Part 02: Truth  
-= LP =-  
"The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall."  
– Che Guevara  
-= LP =-

The brownstone that Dr. Rhodes took him to after the quickest paperwork employment that Happy had ever done was shockingly normal compared to what he had been expecting. Tony Stark was a constant in all of the tabloids for his shenanigans. He was just as often in mainstream media, especially since the death of his parents just a few years ago and now his pending appointment as CEO of Stark Industries. Looking at the simple townhouse squashed between identical ones, Happy couldn't help but think of the rumors that got carried around the dark alleys and forgotten shadows of Hell's Kitchen.

This place may not fit the expectations Happy had of Tony Stark, millionaire playboy, but it did fit the secret backer of the Jarvis Foundation which was growing in quiet renown for the scope and reliability of its programs for the underprivileged. More than one family had been saved from having to go to a loan shark just to make ends meet by the Foundation. It had also helped a few people needing the resources to disappear to do so. The tiny office the Jarvis Foundation had in the mixed residential building on 46th Street was a well-protected secret of Hell's Kitchen, even more so than the residences of the known mutants who lived in the neighborhood.

Dr. Rhodes paused on the threshold, in the middle of unlocking the door. She drummed her fingers against the decorative carvings of the doorframe a few times before turning towards him. Her face was pensive, but when she spoke, her voice was calm.

"I feel that I should warn you that things have been a bit tense the last few weeks. I also wish to remind you of two things. First, that you signed an NDA and the SI legal department is particularly vicious about enforcing them."

"I know how to keep a secret," Happy reminded her. "What's the other thing?"

"Regardless of what Tony says or implies, he cannot actually fire you."

"Wait, what?"

"Technically speaking, you are not employed by him. Well, you are, because he's the major shareholder of Stark Industries and for tax and legality reasons, your employment is through SI." She tapped her fingers again. "But Tony tends to make outlandish threats when he's flustered or annoyed, so there's a clause in your employment contract which requires either Jamie or me to sign off on your termination. Tony cannot actually fire you, no matter how much he says it or complains about it."

"You make is sound like he's a child prone to throwing tantrums."

"Well, the analogy is not far off," Dr. Rhodes said. "Tony was a prodigy. He went through his education at an accelerated rate, often working under private tutors because even the most advanced classroom curriculum was too slow. He was working on undergraduate coursework while most children were navigating middle school. He spent his teen years working on multiple doctorates while surrounded by frat boys and co-eds. When it comes to personal relationships outside of his childhood household, Jamie was Tony's first, and well…"

"Yeah," Happy agreed with what she was struggling to put into words. "Bucky Exceptions can't really be called _normal_, can they?"

"No, they really can't," she agreed with a wry smile. "On top of this lack of normal socialization, Tony is prone to bouts of being both overly dramatic about nothing and downplaying serious matters. His perception of what is acceptable is skewed." Her smile grew fond. "He's like a cat, really."

"So pay minimal attention to what he complains about the loudest," Happy said with a knowing nod, "and assume the worst if he gets quiet or tries to brush something off."

"Familiar with cats, Mr. Hogan?"

Happy flushed a bit, remembering how he acquired that familiarity. Grace had an ever-rotating door for the strays around the gym. At any given time, her little apartment above the gym had about twenty cats over various surfaces. Happy loved helping her upkeep them, even if most of what he ended up doing was to be the designated petter while she got the feeding stations topped off. Considering how often he was at her apartment due to their casual relationship, saying that he was familiar with cats might be a bit of an understatement.

"You could say that."

Dr. Rhodes raised an eyebrow at him, probably sensing the understatement, but said nothing as she swung open the door. The entry hall was nice, similar to what someone would expect for the neighborhood. Or rather it would have been nice if someone hadn't gouged out swathes of the wooden paneling and left the debris right where it had fallen. A thick bundle of wires and cords had been run through the exposed space.

"Well, it looks like Tony has been redecorating," Dr. Rhodes quipped with a thoughtful frown. She led the way through the mess cluttering the floor. "He must have managed to get Jamie out for at least a few hours."

She led him to a stairwell that led downward. As they approached a workshop, the sound of arguing grew more distinctive. The voices were male, though one still had that pitch that haunted the teen years while the other one had grown into a rich baritone. They were still too far away to hear the actual words being exchanged but judging by tone, both men had to be close to either storming apart or coming to blows. Happy couldn't help but wonder how much of the _redecorating_ had been started to keep from redecorating _each other_.

"Tony, _no_," snapped the older voice just as Dr. Rhodes and Happy entered a futuristic workshop. "And call of the bots!"

"Tony, _yes_," said Stark as he typed something into what Happy was fairly certain was a computer (even if it was much smaller than any computer that he had seen). A manic grin covered his face along with the dust and grime that must have come from tearing open the walls. He was surrounded by three robots on wheeled chasses. Each robot was armed in some way. The pair with only one hand each had a fire extinguisher and a blowtorch respectively while the one that had two arms was dual wielding feather dusters.

Stark threw his hands in the air as a garbled voice began talking through the intercom system. With each syllable, the voice became clearer, taking on the effect of a British accent. Col. Rhodes crossed his arms and glared at the inventor without heat.

"It matters not how strait the gate," the voice said, finally completely clear of any garbling or stutter, "how charged with punishments the scroll: I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul."

"_Invictus_," Rhodes said. "Really, Tones?"

"Were you hoping for _Walk Like an Egyptian_?"

"God, no, and don't think I'm blind to your obsession with shitty pop songs." The airman rubbed a hand over his face, obviously tired. He waved his other hand at Stark. "What's this one's name?"

"I am Just a Rather Very Intelligent System," the voice answered. "I will take care of Sir to the best of my abilities. However, I do not understand the references to koalas in my databanks concerning Sir. Should I acquire a eucalyptus tree for adequate nutrition?"

Rhodes dropped his hand to look at Stark. He suddenly looked about to cry. His hands moved through some gestures that Happy recognized as ASL, even if the only one he could actually translate was the sharp _come_ at the end. Stark apparently understood entirely because he didn't hesitate to obey that order.

As Rhodes' arms locked around the smaller man, Happy got the feeling that he was seeing something more intimate than a mere hug. It should have made him feel like he was intruding on something private. Instead, it cemented the feeling that he was exactly where he needed to be.

Besides, it was probably already too late to walk away from things, even if that _intelligent system_ wasn't something like Skynet.

-= LP =-  
An Ending  
(for real this time)  
-= LP =-


End file.
